Along These Lines
by Silvereyes12
Summary: Five years they worked together, but never did they cross the line. Now, in the aftermath, he wishes he did. Morgan/Prentiss, dedicated to DaniminaWhore.


**Along These Lines**

_Summary: Five years he worked with her, never did he cross the line. Now he wished he did. Morgan/Prentiss dedicated to DaniminaWhore. Thank you for being awesome, by the way._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, I just bend the characters to my will._

_Spoilers: Slave of Duty 5.10, Retaliation 5.11, 100 5.09, Sense Memory 6.14, Valhalla 6.17, Lauren 6.18..uh… 5.20 A Thousand Words…_

_Well, here it is. Hope you like it!_

XCMX

_Slave of Duty_

He knew she was upset by this case. He couldn't blame her; She did fit victimology in every way. Brunette, high-profile, rich, everything she was, it was in this case. Her reaction when they found him was astonishingly frightening.

The sweeping kick, along with the cold fury as the barrel of her gun rested on his temple, scared the living hell out of him. And what said was even more startling. The pure hatred in her voice got to him, but he wasn't exactly sure why.

Of course, he didn't want to see other people in his family in pain, as she so obviously was now. She was hurt by the case, mentally hurt from this unsub, and emotionally for Hotch, cutting short Haley's funeral must've hurt for her. He knew the two women were close back two or so years ago.

He approached her after they deplaned, and she blocked him out, saying she was fine. He made a house call later, with her favorite wine and chocolate.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Agent Morgan?" She asked, once they got situated.

He pretended to consider that, then he answered, "Well, it depends if it's working."

She stared at him, before bursting into laughter.

"You are one of a kind, Derek."

_Retaliation_

"Prentiss!"

He was slightly horrified by her appearance, a gash on her forehead, the stark contrast of her pale skin and FBI jacket she wore. And her bloodied arm with gun in hand. That scared him.

He rode with her to the hospital, though she protested all the way, even in the hallways until he asked her how many shots she fired. She answered that she fired three, but she really emptied her clip. And in that adorably confused way she answered, "I did?"

That made him chuckle at her expense, but he knew that _that_ kind of confusion could be potentially dangerous. Being that she'd been concussed a couple times already also didn't help the fact she probably have another one from that tumble, as Emily Prentiss put in, in the car.

Crime scene had already removed Bunting's body from the wreckage, and he knew that she'd feel exceptionally guilty about his death. Especially considering that she'd been right there when he was strangled by Dale Schrader. Something he tried to drill into her hardass head in the ambulance.

Nothing that couldn't be fixed, but considering recent _events_ he realized there might not be that much time left.

After this case, he took her home, watching her move slowly through her apartment, leaning on nearby objects for supports before taking pity on the obviously exhausted brunette. Picking her up, even she squealed and slapped lightly at his arm, he carried her, bridal style, up the stairs to her room, even if she did threaten to kill him, and promptly deposited her on her bed.

She glared at him, before her black-brown eyes softened and she said, "Thank you, Derek."

He swears he's never heard that much sincerity in one statement his whole life, but he holds it back and answers with a simple, "Anytime, Princess." He shoots her the trademark Derek Morgan grin and finds his way down to the couch in the living room, where he knew he could be sleeping for the night.

Two hours later, and he snaps awake, he sense on high-alert, listening. He hears a soft whimper and he knew.

Taking the stairs one at a time, he quietly let himself into her room, watching her toss and turn on her covers, before he gently shakes her awake and folds her into his arms, where he offers safety and comfort, and she takes it, because when he next wakes up, she's still wrapped up in his arms.

And, honestly, he couldn't care less.

_A Thousand Words…_

Watching her kick Reid's ass in poker, made he wander over to her side, asking her, "What the hell is a Sin-to-Win weekend?"

He laughed inside as she questioned, "Excuse me?"

Then he stared at her retreating back, and _okay, maybe her ass too_, thought aloud, "There is a whole other side to that woman."

He didn't hear Reid murmur, "I never lose."

"A whole other side."

He shook his head, glancing over at the woman as she talked with JJ about Henry.

He wanted to know more about this 'whole other side', but he resisted the urge to pull her over here and kiss her senseless. You know, something that he probably would do if he wasn't surrounded by his team members.

_Valhalla_

He knew something was wrong. She didn't smile as much, she seemed withdrawn and wary. It was something more than this case, but the lack of reaction from her seemed odd. Then they were fired upon by four men in masks.

Something was seriously wrong.

Watching her throw-up at the latest crime scene, he knew he would push this time, instead of when he just let it go in that taxi cab. Because it wasn't like Emily Prentiss to throw up at crime scenes. What was so bad about this? They'd seen worse.

He took her home, let her change, before heading back to the BAU to deliver Ian Doyle's profile. He was too late. She had disappeared before they even finished the profile. He was right in front of her, for god's sake. He should've watched her closer.

He seethed.

_Lauren_

He watched helplessly at the woman beneath him, bleeding out and possibly dying. She was stabbed by a wooden stake, for god's sake.

Listening to JJ, after these five years working with Emily Prentiss, tell all of them that their friend and colleague wouldn't be coming home with them this time, was enough to shatter his world.

It was enough.

_**A/N: Hoped you guys liked it. I'm not a big M/P shipper so… **_

_**Toodles!**_


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